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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639890">talking to the moon.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4kiroll/pseuds/m4kiroll'>m4kiroll</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad At Tagging, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sort Of, Spoilers for DRV3, how does one tag, i can't proof read, i wrote this instead of sleeping for like a week and u can tell, missing the Tsundere and Himbo TM hours, some characters aren't tagged but are mentioned or make an appearance, this is so self-indulgent sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:56:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4kiroll/pseuds/m4kiroll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> or am i a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon? <em></em></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>on nights such as these, with a full moon in the sky that he would have loved, with the stars dotting the otherwise jet black sky like paint splattered on a canvas, and the only noise that could be heard were the chippers of cricket, rocking of the shore and the bustling of nearby nocturnal animals, alongside with her own breathing —</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>those were the nights that maki felt like he were there next to her, pointing out different constellations and speaking to the moonlight as if it were an old friend. it had quickly become enduring to maki, and now she longed for him to do it again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>(in which maki reminisces on the luminary of the stars during their time together, all underneath the moon that he had loved so dearly.)</em>
  </em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harukawa Maki &amp; Momota Kaito &amp; Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki &amp; Saihara Shuichi &amp; Yumeno Himiko, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>talking to the moon.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title, lyric in the summary and concept of this one-shot is from talking to the moon by bruno mars (which i encourage you to listen to while reading just to be even sadder over them again)!</p>
<p>i’m really sorry for the amount of world-building that’s involved in the beginning and how the kaimaki isn’t really there until mid-way, but in my defense, world-building is important and i will go down with that!! also, i genuinely have no idea what i personally headcanon what the “true ending” of V3 is just because there are a lot of AUs that i enjoy, but generally i go for the idea that the events of THH, SDR2, etc. did happen and that maki and the others were put in the neo world program to spread despair — you get the idea. it’s honestly a lot like it’s alright, it’s okay by EmbraceTheEccentric with the exception of a few details, which wasn’t intended but i’d feel bad if i didn’t say anything after realizing.</p>
<p>anyway, that was my heads-up! thank you for reading and i hope my fellow kaimaki stans get depressed all over again. it's what we deserve for having the balls to be sad over them in 2020. (kidding, of course.) (no i'm serious why am i so attached to dumb pining teenagers)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time had begun to blend itself together, Maki had come to the realization long ago.</p>
<p>Events from the past had begun to come together in a terrible, poignant mixture; was it six months ago when she awoke in that school, six months when a killing game amongst the supposed remaining members of humanity had broken out? Or had it been six weeks? Six years, even?</p>
<p>Well, of course not. The rational part of her, the part that had gotten stampeded on time and time again during the killing game (so badly that Maki had no idea what was or wasn’t real; some nights she awoke with the stars still glittering in the sky, her long hair matted with sweat, red eyes wide in fear, the fear that all of <em>that</em>was for nothing and Himiko, Shuichi, <em>him </em>and the rest of them had been dreamt up by her. A wonderful, terrible nightmare… she was unaware if it was the feeling of bliss or dread that dawned on her following the realization that it was just a dream), became her lifeline throughout the past few months — no, it hadn’t been six years, just a long amount of time as pitied, hospitalized patients with Shuichi and Himiko for her liking.</p>
<p>The days bled into weeks and the weeks bled into months, but nothing new arose. Maki had always been ambitionless, that much was clear when her future as a cutthroat assassin had been laid out in the palm of her hand at such a ripe and young age, but the lack of something new had begun to get weirdly tiring, which stung to admit. During the killing game, at least <em>something</em> new would always bubble to the surface — a lie, a motive, and occasionally, a corpse. However long ago it had been since ending the killing game, Maki and the other two awoke in a hospital, surrounded by bustling doctors and concerned pouts and pitying looks, things Maki had no fondness for. Unfortunately for Maki, things only seemed to go more downhill for her.</p>
<p>“T-to put it simply,” A stammering nurse with uneven locks of dark raven-purple hair had begun, hands fumbling about as she typed away on a computer, documenting Maki’s current health state, “E-everything about th-that k-killing game? It d-didn’t happen,” </p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Maki had asked flatly, though there was no confusion or questioning in her voice; just denial and frustration barely masking itself from her tone of voice.</p>
<p>“Y-you see,” Doctor Tsumiki began, rubbing her hands in anticipation to <em>rip off the bandage, </em>as she had put it moments beforehand, “S-Saihara-san and Yumeno-san and yourself were, um, w-well… it might be easier for you to read it…” </p>
<p>Trailing off, Tsumiki began fumbling about her desk, mumbling things Maki couldn’t quite hear until an envelope that had been torn open beforehand was thrust in her hands. With a nod from the doctor, Maki unfolded the envelope and read it to herself: </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Dear Tsumiki-kun,  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Hope things are well at Jabberwock! Unfortunately, I am not writing just for a catch-up, but rather for some troubling news regarding the first class at the New Hope's Peak Academy.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Not a single one of them has shown up, but it's only for their class, too! It's been a few days and while their remaining families (who aren't dead or missing) have been alerted, their whereabouts are still completely unknown. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Kyoko has a hunch that some of Enoshima's remaining followers may have kidnapped them and are holding them hostage, and if that is the case, then the best-case scenario is that they just want a ransom, but we are talking about the remaining despair members. The most likely is that they stole the Neo World Program and the kids are about to meet Monokuma, if you get my drift. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I'm telling you this not for you or the others to panic, but because we are working around the clock to retrieve them before they turn to despair. Please be prepared to hospitalize at most 16 students at any time.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Thank you, and best of luck! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> - M Naegi </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maki looked up, a blank stare drilling into Mikan's own eyes, which were looking at her expectantly. </p>
<p>“I don’t understand,” Maki frowned. “What’s this ‘Neo World Program’?” </p>
<p>“It’s b-basically this sim-simulation,”  Tsumiki tumbled over her words, and if she was intimidated or just had a stutter, Maki couldn’t be sure. “I-it was used in <em>my </em>killing game, actually. A-and e-everyone who died in the program was re-awakened within a few months, so —” </p>
<p>“So none of my classmates are dead?” Maki finished for her, trying to keep the hope that was threatening to overtake her voice out. Doctor Tsumiki had given a nod, and that was all Maki needed for hope to inwardly soar in her. </p>
<p>"B-But the despair members who kidnapped you and the rest of your classmates t-tweaked the Neo World Program. It's e-entirely different from m-my own killing game. It'll t-take some time b-before they can be awoken..." </p>
<p>And there was the kicker. Maki should have known it was too good to be true — it always was.</p>
<p>"They <em>can </em>be awakened though, right?" Maki asked with her jaw clenched, her words coming out more condescending than she had intended. Instinctively, one of her hands flew to her waist to bring out one of her normally obscured throwing knives, only for her hand to meet the surface of the pocket-less hospital gown that awkwardly hung on her body.</p>
<p>Tsumuki hesitated, and that was enough of an answer for Maki before the words slipped out of her mouth. </p>
<p>"We d-don't know yet...."</p>
<p>There were a lot of technicalities that the Despairs, as Tsumiki called them, went through; changing the program to make it harder to retrieve the kidnapping class, brainwashing Tsumugi, and making her believe they were a part of a TV show… all of it was to mess with her, with <em>them.</em></p>
<p>Maki almost pitied Shirogane. </p>
<p><em>Almost</em>. Her maniacal shrieks of glee at their despair as Junko Enoshima the 53rd would take years to dull from Maki's head, after all.</p>
<p>The first few nights after discovering the truth were hard, to say the least; desperate to get rid of the clothes that plagued them with so many despair-filled memories, the trio had requested a new wardrobe that didn’t resemble their clothes from the killing game. </p>
<p>Himiko and Shuichi had kept their hats — though they didn't say so, Maki understood that they felt attached to the hats, or more specifically, the memories that were packaged with them — though Maki had only kept two things. Firstly, her hair ties, which held her hair out of her face, and both secondly and lastly, a torn piece of fabric from Momota’s jacket.</p>
<p>The rest of the jacket had been confiscated, as a part of Kaito’s belongings, though Maki had snuck a torn piece in her pocket, desperate to have <em>something</em> of his on her, seeing as the hospital staff didn’t seem any closer to waking him or the others then they had when they were first taken. If she couldn’t get any new memories with him for who knows how long, there was no harm in taking a piece from one that already existed, right? </p>
<p>She had done it to stay sane, of course. To have something to hold onto, she supposes, though she still didn’t have a good explanation for the <em>exact </em>reason she stole that shred of fabric; if there was one. Though she had done so for selfish, emotional reasons, it had become her one and only goal since waking up in that locker, or more accurately, since she could comprehend things.</p>
<p>
  <em>Surviving.</em>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It was an unspoken rule to not talk of their time from the killing game.</p>
<p>Of course, it was inevitable to talk about at times — it was the thing that drew them together, after all, and it was the thing that stayed with them no matter where or what they were doing — but they avoided it at all costs. Maki had adjusted to the sight of blood long ago, but it was... different, Maki had hated to admit. Bright, hot pink was ingrained in her head, and whenever she shut her eyes, instead of black, the same shade of nauseating neon pink stared back at her. Time and time again, Maki, Shuichi, and Himiko had awoken in a cold sweat when memories of their time in the killing semester plagued their subconsciousness; the off-tune notes of Akamatsu’s body being slammed onto a large piano over, and over, and <em>over</em>again, Shinguji being boiled alive, Shirogane waving with a pensive frown gracing her lips moments before a boulder and a collection of rubble crushed her... they, along with what felt like the countless other deaths and executions, replayed over and over again in their heads, the memories of what they had to watch hammering in their heads — <em> wasn’t it enough that they had to live through it, see it with their own eyes, eyes that couldn’t see anything the same way ever again? </em> — but it was <em>nothing </em>compared to her now-familiar nightmares of coughing up blood. </p>
<p>It had happened during a humid summer evening, as Himiko and herself tossed their food around on their plates with a fork as the trio ate in silence. It was late in the night and most of the hospital staff left them alone, so the quiet hums of the air conditioner filled the room while they ate. However, that wasn’t the case for long, as the sound of coughing began to echo through the empty room. Her head had whipped around on instant to Saihara, whose backside of his hand covered his mouth, and to her surprise, she had expected the sight of blood to fall through his fingers and palm, but nothing laid there. His hands were as clean and pale as ever, spotless from the sight of hacked up blood. Maki knew it wasn’t the illness — she <em>knew</em> it, she did! — and that coughing was a perfectly normal thing, but it still rattled her to her core and she had laid awake that night despite her best interest.</p>
<p>In her defense, coughing would plague her as a sore memory, despite never victimizing her herself.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t abnormal to be awoken by the noise of crying; crying from any of them, that was. Their rooms in the hospital were directly next to one another, and while the walls in the living quarters weren’t particularly thin, it was hard not to hear desperate shrieks and loud pants of fear from another neighboring room. Sometimes, depression blanketed Himiko like a familiar cardigan, comforting her and closing her off from Maki and Shuichi as she dwelled on Chabashira and Yonaga and all the things that she wished she had done and said. Other times, Maki and Himiko would rush to Shuichi’s bed-side when he would awake in a fit of tears and a series of shouts that pertained to things along the lines of, "<em>I'm sorry I couldn't save you!</em>", and on the other nights... it would be Maki herself who would stare off into space (the irony of that word and statement never failed for bile to rise up her throat, desperate to be coughed out, though she would always keep still and hold it down) when <em>his</em> charisma and magnetic smile would wander back into her head. </p>
<p>One night, Shuichi had confronted her about her hypocrisy. </p>
<p>“Maki, you know you can talk to us,” Shuichi had said during one of their many late-night meals with Himiko. Their argument had just escalated, but now, comforting as ever, Shuichi was desperately trying to reel it back in. Without meaning to, Maki frowns in recognition; those were the words she had heard from her doctors and therapist at the hospital countless times — <em>too</em> many times, if you asked her.</p>
<p>“We’re the… the <em>survivors</em>, you know?" Shuichi cringes at the use of the term — it was the one the hospital staff and the Future Foundation members used as if them living through a nearly endless bloodbath with a collection of scarring nightmares to follow was something to be accomplished of — but carries on, hoping neither would comment on or even notice the pause. </p>
<p>(They do. But they don't say anything; some things are better left unsaid, after all.)</p>
<p>"It’s safe here now." Shuichi's voice had dropped to a whisper. His hand reaches for hers, and despite not being one for physical contact, she reciprocates, wrapping her hand around his own. His hands are cold, they always are, but they contained an odd sense of comforting in them that Maki barely took notice of their lack of warmth anymore. She extends her other hand to Himiko's, who reached at the same time — the gesture, as corny as it was, was one that comforted the three of them. <em>They were in this together. </em>It was them against the world — or an endless sea of doctors bustling about the hospital, though they had begun to become one and the same. "You don’t have to pretend to be unaffected or unafraid —” </p>
<p>“I’m not afraid,” Maki had replied coolly, her untroubled facade thinly veiling her emotions in her voice. “I’ve already accepted the fact that Momota and the others might not wake up. I suggest you do the same,” She then broke both of her hands free, briskly picked herself up, and stalked off, and while she didn’t fully mean her words, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize and, therefore, cave in to actually, fully opening up. To anybody — Shuichi, Himiko, her therapist, even the Ultimate Hope himself.</p>
<p>Shuichi and Himiko empathized with that, though. Thankfully, they just understood and asked no questions or pushed her into saying things she'd rather shove down and, more importantly, keep down. Of course, she saw their concerned glances that would be exchanged — it was ironic how they were a trio of concern and worries for the other, really — and she knew they desperately wanted her to talk, but until she was ready (which she wasn't sure she ever would be), they would instead tighten their grip on her shoulders, smile, and stargaze on the roof of the hospital with her in comforting silence. </p>
<p>Admittedly, there were some days where she really wanted to tell <em>someone</em> about her feelings that still burned brightly, having not been tampered out; if anything, they burned brighter, outshining the moon and stars that he had loved so dearly. However, she resisted and instead opted to keep her mouth clamped shut.</p>
<p>She now sat on the rooftop of the hospital, having ignored the <em>STAFF ONLY </em>posters plastered on the doors leading to the area. It wasn’t like any of the doctors could say no to, in their words, "a mentally scarred teenage girl", either, and even if they did, Maki wouldn’t have cared. The rooftop was where she felt closest to him, even though he was in an indefinite state of comatose, locked away in a room Maki couldn’t locate. On nights such as these, with a full moon in the sky that he would have loved, with the stars dotting the otherwise jet black sky like paint splattered on a canvas, and the only noise that could be heard were the chippers of cricket, rocking of the shore and the bustling of nearby nocturnal animals, alongside with her own breathing —</p>
<p><em> Those </em>were the nights that Maki felt like he were there next to her, pointing out different constellations and speaking to the moonlight as if it were an old friend. It had quickly become endearing to Maki, and now she longed for him to do it again.</p>
<p>Looking up to the sky, Maki began to look for one of the few constellations she knew of, the Big Dipper (though she hated how that was the only one she could find with ease — couldn't anyone spot the Big Dipper?), when a familiar feeling of regret swept through her; she shouldn’t have spent so much time pretending to hate the man and instead asked him to stargaze with her, teach her everything he knew about the night sky as she would watch the excitement and thrill bubble in his eyes, all the while his own eyes becoming her favorite stars that outshone the rest. It was cheesy, sickeningly so, that is, but judging by how her heart was caught in her throat just by the thought of spending any more time with him and stargazing... it was the truth. The sickeningly cheesy truth that she couldn't trust anybody but herself with. </p>
<p>But the opportunities to stargaze and memorize the constellations until she knew them better than the back of her hand were far gone. </p>
<p>No one could be sure if he’d ever wake up again, all because of the despair-obsessed people that gave him that illness in the program, making him sacrifice himself anyway. All because he had gone out like an idiot, a lovable, honorable, <em>adorable </em>idiot, and gotten himself killed, launching himself to space in that rocket. Of course, he insisted that he would have dropped dead either way and while that was true, he still went off.</p>
<p>He still left her, and all without knowing just how much each step away from her and towards the rocket pained her. It was a betrayal to her heart, like her own knives and weapons had turned against her and began to slowly impale her heart. Except much, <em> much </em>more horrendously painful.</p>
<p>And worst of all, she had watched it happen and was powerless to do <em>something</em><em>, </em>or anything, really. All she did was let out the ugliest cries she had heard (and she basically raised dozens of children at the orphanage, mind you) as snot and tears poured down her face, a lump the size of a golf ball forming in the back of her throat. It was uncharacteristic of her, to say the least, but Kaito Momota had a way to bring out the very best in her.</p>
<p>The most humane of her, that was.</p>
<p>And because of all that, Kaito might never call himself the Luminary of the Stars again.</p>
<p>A sob escapes her throat, though she doesn’t mean for it to happen. Willing herself to quiet down out of embarrassment for herself, the palms of her hands flew together, pressing her hands against the bridge of her nose as her body felt heavy on top of the edge of the roof. From afar, it looked as if she were praying, praying for the comatose to awaken.</p>
<p>“Kaito,” She murmurs, now looking up at the moon through her lashes, now sniffling and swiftly wiping tears away from her eyes. Her voice sounds coarse and rough, like she hadn’t muttered the name in ages, which she hadn’t. Or at least, it <em>felt</em>like she hadn’t.</p>
<p>Having been surrounded by death and murder her entire life, Maki knew she could endure the trauma from the deaths and executions, as much as she hated the t-word (it was one her therapist used too often for her liking). It was no easy task, sure, but it was possible. Though no matter how strong and firm her training had made her, it seemed it didn’t make her strong enough to even have the willpower to talk about the astronaut who had broken her walls down. And she missed him, she missed the idiot with everything her numb heart had left. </p>
<p>“I wish you were here,” Maki whispers, but she’s so quiet and her voice is so weak and powerless and wobbly that not even she can hear her words properly. The sound that escapes her lips sounds like meaningless squeaking, which it probably was, but she found that talking to the moon was much easier than explaining to Himiko or Shuichi about the feelings that still stirred underneath her off-putting exterior, let alone her therapist.</p>
<p>Now that she had begun speaking, she couldn’t stop. It was ridiculous, admittedly, and it felt embarrassing to be speaking to the moon as if he were next to her, rubbing his thumb across her hand (which she wanted him to do. So ridiculously much, just to feel his warmth and liveliness once more, and to seize onto that light for the rest of her life, no matter how much she yearned for more), and while she had no idea if she would hear his voice ever again, she continued talking, now lifting her head up to look up at the pale moon. It was no wonder why he had done this often; it was weirdly soothing.</p>
<p>Closing her eyes once again, Maki recalls his features, imagining him next to her as if she were speaking to <em>him </em>and him directly. His patient and encouraging eyes, his stupid slippers, the magnetic warmness of his touch, the brilliance of his smile — it all came rushing back to her like an old friend, a friend she welcomed with open arms. </p>
<p>“You would know what to do… how to be hopeful, how to keep going, how to believe the rest will wake up… <em>‘the impossible is possible</em>’, I guess,” Maki let out a dry laugh, a small smile finally appearing on her face. “Shuichi and Himiko need your faith. They need you, the hero, not me,” She continues, slightly above a whisper, careful not to speak or cry too loudly to disrupt the peace, though she was all alone on the roof and nothing could disrupt the peace she had created for herself. Her tears, hot on her stone-cold face, begin to fall down her cheeks as her vision begins to blur once again, though she sniffles slightly as she continues. Her embarrassment of speaking to the moon had begun to diminish as she no longer seemed to even realize she was talking up to the moon; it was only her and the self-proclaimed Luminary of the Stars now.</p>
<p>“I miss you, space idiot, I do, and Shuichi doesn’t speak of you because of me but… but he misses you, too.” </p>
<p>“I… I hope you miss us too.” She finishes, with a satisfied and sure smile cracking across her face, her eyes shining with tears. "Wherever and however you are."</p>
<p>Though she hates how her voice came out like a broken record, as though she hadn’t spoken in months, she finds that she's smiling slightly up to the moon, as if he had his arm around her, pointing excitedly to the moon and prattling on about his endless knowledge on the moon. </p>
<p>Wrapping the thought around her like his own cherished jacket, Maki finds herself calming down, admiring the night sky, knowing that the moment he was back and next to her, she would savor each and every night star-gazing. </p>
<p>No matter how many nights it took talking to the moon. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes, this is slightly (meaning very) ooc, yes this was self-indulgent, yes i sacrificed a few hours of sleep to awfully proof-read an awfully executed oneshot of my dumb ship, yes i still am not satisfied with it and yeah, none of that stopped me from posting this and WHAT of it? i got kaimaki feels and have been meaning to officially set aside an ao3 account for danganronpa and decided to kill two birds with one stone. </p>
<p>regardless i hope you enjoyed some angsty/fluffy/weird-ass mixture of the two of kaimaki oneshot because i have the audacity to be sad over hets once again (though we all know no one in that cast is straight) (but u didn’t hear it from me)!! if you're a kaimaki stan who's sad over them — me too bud. if you're not, may i ask how does it feel to be productive?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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